Ash, Smoke And Decay
by Tatsumaki-sama
Summary: He floated between dream and reality. Memories that were his and not his came and went. Was he still Allen? Or someone else?


**Disclaimer:** I don't own D Gray Man or any of its characters.

**Ash, Smoke And Decay ****  
**

- onest, he isn't sure what is real and what isn't anymore.

His sense of reality and dream were crumbling quicker, too fast for him or anyone else to stop it. Days were nights and nights were days. Friends became enemies and enemies became friends. Black was white and white was black.

He felt as if he was being buffering back and forth from everything he knew and everything that he didn't. He was no one and he was someone.

Things became confusing. He could be walking down somewhere for one minute before "waking up" somewhere else, without having any memory of getting there in the first place. People, places, things, they were all jumbled, mixed and scattered. Things of the present were the past and what was in the past was the future. Time had no hold on him. He was merely swayed to whatever he was swept to, too weary to try and figure out his surroundings.

Why was this happening to him? How did this happen in the first place? Who did this to him? He wanted to scream, begging for answers, for something to tell him that he wasn't going crazy, that he was still wholly sane, that he was still himself.

But that there was no "him". Not anymore.

Only this being of nothingness that he identified as what he is, this - this thing floating in oblivion that merely existed -

.

.

.

" - over there?"

A voice shattered the silence. Startled, he blinked, momentarily blinded by the brilliant sun's reflection off the crystal clear waters. A few fish swam by his ankles, intertwining and tickling him as they slithered about. Behind him, he could hear the rushed paddling of feet and heavy panting. He turned around and was suddenly confronted with a grinning, familiar face.

" What are you doing here?" Mana asked breathlessly, hurriedly wiping sweat off his brow.

Mana was cheerful, a jubilant boy who had no worries or cares of the world and was currently only concerned with being close to his brother.

" Nothing really," he replied, closing his eyes. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the sweet air, feeling a gentle breeze play over his hair. He wiggled his toes in the water, relishing at the blissful coolness, barely noting the tiny pebbles prodding him at the bottom of his feet. This all seemed so surreal. Like a dream. A dream he didn't feel like waking up from yet.

" Well, if you aren't doing anything, can we go?" Impatient as ever, Mana tugged at his arm, steering him towards the shore and away from the heavenly waters. " We're going to be late for lunch! We're having croissants today!"

Even he could not resist chuckling. His brother was always thinking of food. " The croissants won't go anywhere Mana," he reminded gently, hoping to extend his time in the water as long as he could.

The pout on Mana's face was something between begging and exasperation. " Only into the mouths and stomachs of others."

He laughed out loud. " All right. All right. Let's go to lunch before you starve to death," he teased.

" I'm already dying," Mana moaned, already climbing over the little hill, drifting back to their home.

He stayed in the water a little bit longer. Closing his eyes, he mused how it was a fleeting feeling, this coolness, this moment of happiness, this instant of bliss.

Mana turned around, impatient. " You coming or not - ?"

.

.

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" - Allen?"

Without realizing that he was doing it, he found himself bobbling his head in answer to the question he had just been asked. Whatever it was.

" You haven't been sleeping well, have you?" He shook his head to snap himself out of his strange little daze. That was when he realized he was standing in front of a concerned Johnny.

" I guess not," Allen said, chuckling a little, rubbing his eyes. All at once, his body suddenly felt heavy and sluggish. It became a struggle to keep his eyes opened and he fought hard to cover the yawn escaping from his exposed mouth.

" Why don't you get some sleep?" Johnny suggested helpfully. " There's still a few hours before the meeting."

He blinked owlishly. " Meeting?" he echoed dumbly.

" The one Komui told everyone yesterday. Don't you remember?"

Quickly, Allen racked his head for any announcement or message about a meeting. But nothing came to mind. In fact, he couldn't really remember yesterday too well.

" All you need to know is that it's in a few hours," Johnny quickly said, noting his stumped expression. " Go get some sleep. You wouldn't want to fall asleep at the meeting knowing what Komui could do to you afterwards."

Allen chuckled sheepishly. He certainly didn't want that to happen. " Thanks, Johnny." With a cheery wave, he set off back to his room. Nevertheless, it troubled him that he couldn't remember an important meeting such as that or anything from yesterday at all.

It took considerable effort not to fall flat on his face. Each step became harder to take and he soon found himself dragging his heavy body to his room. His breathing wasn't even labored or strained. In contrast, it was calm and even. Something that alarmed Allen.

What was happening to him?

Someone called his name. Gasping and yet, his breathing wasn't forced and his heart wasn't racing, he turned around, though it took more energy that he would thought, and everything was so slow, so blurry, so foggy that -

.

.

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- he grunted as a sudden blur tackled him around the waist, nearly knocking him off his feet in the process.

" Welcome home!"

Smiling as he ruffled her hair, he knelt down so that they were eye-level. " Aren't we happy today?"

" Why shouldn't I be happy today?" the little girl retorted, a pout blooming over her cheeks.

" I remember the last time I saw you, you kicked me out of the door," he reminded her.

" Aww. I was just saying goodbye to you," she cheerfully claimed, though there was a devious steak in her bright eyes. When he snorted in disbelief, her Cheshire grin only widened. " You don't believe me?"

" No, no, I believe you." He didn't want to get kicked again so soon. " So where are the others?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.

The little girl intertwined around his legs like a cat playfully, gazing innocently up at him. " They're around."

" Maybe you just don't know?" he teased.

Scowling, Road glared up at him. " Hmph. Go see for yourself." With that, she gave him a push from behind that nearly made him stumble over the welcome mat and into -

.

.

.

- a strangely dark room.

His body felt heavy and slow. Inch by inch, he managed to raise his head. The room he was in - where he has no memory of entering in the first place - was dimly lit and coldly empty of any furniture or windows. He tried moving his arms, only to find them strapped to the chair he was sitting on. His legs were also bound too. There was only one person in the room besides him, standing directly above him, meticulously writing something on his clipboard.

" What are you writing?" he finally asked, curious.

The man's frosty eyes met with his own. " About you," he answered crisply, sounding almost tired, like he had to repeat himself over and over again.

" Why?" The childish question slipped out of his mouth before he could stop.

" Because you did something," the stranger said, this time without looking up from his clipboard.

" I did?" He tilted his head, rummaging through his head to think of what he did before he came awake in this room.

The man continued writing, the harsh scratching of lead onto paper loud and hard. " You don't remember?" he asked, his voice casual.

He shook his head, feeling puzzled why he couldn't remember. " If it was something bad, I'm sorry," he humbly said.

Glancing up, the man gave him a look that might be akin to pity. " Don't worry about it," the man interrupted calmly. " It's over anyways."

Before he could ask what that was suppose to mean, a door opened and two men came into the room, flooding it with light. He blinked, wishing his arms were free so he could block the dazzling light from his eyes. One of them looked sad, almost guilty for being there. His regretful eyes peering through his glasses looked everywhere but him. The other, a tall and imposing man that repulsively reminded him of a snake, gazed down at him with contempt.

" Looks like Sleeping Beauty woke up," he said in what he thought was a cheerful voice. " Did you sleep well? Hope you didn't get any -"

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- nightmares had been coming more and more frequently. Whether during the day or night, he couldn't sleep anymore. The pain kept him awake and screaming from dawn to dusk. Soon, markings of crosses began to outline his forehead, cutting deep, bleeding fresh. The rest of them were terrified of him, said that he was cursed, that he was possessed. They brought doctors and priests to him, but they couldn't do anything for him. He continued seeing the nightmares, images of grotesque figures, deformed skulls, spidery claws, biting teeth, choking smoke and blood-red eyes.

There was only one person who stayed by his side constantly, when he was able to doze, when the nightmares were the worst. His brother always held his hand, pressed a cool cloth to his head, whispered that everything was going to be all right.

They told Mana to stay away from him, told him that there was nothing more that could be done to help him. But he never left. Even when they locked Mana away in another room, Mana somehow found a way to sneak back into his room. Mana refused to leave the side of his brother and eventually, they left him alone.

On this day, Mana was reading to him. His voice gave birth to words that floated, soared and vanished in the air and out of the window. He could hear the voices of people and neighs of horses outside. The smell of food and something sweet made his mouth water. Finally, he cracked open his dry lips and spoke.

" Mana?"

" What is it?"

" It hurts," he murmured.

" I know. I know," Mana said. He said that a lot these days. He began unwrapping the bandages on his forehead. The engravings stopped bleeding a week ago. They still looked raw and painful, but they did not bleed anymore. Only out of fear and caution that Mana continued binding them.

" I saw someone. In my dreams."

" Who?"

" A man, I think. He was tall and large and smiling. He was dancing across the sky with an umbrella. He told me to join him."

Mana stopped tying the bandages and stared at him. " What did you do?" he asked hesitantly.

" Nothing. I didn't say anything to him and he disappeared afterwards." He sighed, warm underneath his blankets.

" Good." Mana went back to the bandages. " If that man does show up again, you don't say a word to him, all right?"

He nodded obediently. But no sooner than Mana left the room, the man from his dreams appeared before him, with a huge grin stretching across his plump face.

" Hello there, *****. Well, what do you say? Will you join - ?"

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.

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" - me? No - no - this - this can't be happening - Oh God - this can't - p-please - can you hear me?"

There was nothing but pain. An all-consuming pain robbed him of his senses. His eyes were opened - he knew that much - but he couldn't see. All he could see was this burning white haze that enveloped everything, making it all hurt so much more.

" It's going to be all right - I - I'm going to take care of you - just - just hold on ..."

He felt shaking hands press against his chest, only for them to sink into a fresh flood of blood. He let out a shrieking scream and a hurried voice calmed him down.

" It's - it's all right. I know it hurts, but you have to bear with it, okay? We can't let them find us - if they do ... just listen to my voice. Like ... what we used to do. Remember how I always read books to you when you were sick?"

He didn't even have the strength to answer. He was so tired. But there was one thing burning in his fading mind. " Now," he whispered.

" Now? What are you talking about - ?"

" Do it now!" he snapped, spitting out a bubble of blood. He didn't have much energy left. If this was the end, he had to do it now. There wouldn't any more chances after this and the Earl was getting closer to him. There was no other choice.

Mana's eyes widened in the dark of the night. His face suddenly seemed older, wearier and more subdued. " Who then?" he asked, in a quietly defeated voice.

" Pick anyone!" he hissed, in his anger and desperation. A moment too late and he might - " Anyone!"

As Mana disappeared from his vision to select his host, he swallowed another bitter rise of vomit. There was just so much -

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.

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- blood. He felt it staining his skin, seeping through the cracks of his fingers. It was hot and thrilling. To his delight (or was it disgust?), he relished in this new found heat, spreading throughout his body, boiling his own blood, making him come more alive.

_" Please, ****n-kun!"_

Why would he want to stop? This was fun. Fun. Fun. fun. More fun than anything he experienced in a long time. This was his moment. This was his to enjoy.

_" Listen to me, ***ln, this isn't you. This isn't you! Do you hear me? It's the - "_

Really, those voices were getting on his nerves. He wanted to crush them all, silence them for good. Make them shut up. Get them out of his mind. Get out. Leave. Shut up. Make them stop. Shut. Mind. Up. Them. Get. His. Out. Out. Out.

_" **len! Let her go! Don't do it! You wouldn't hurt her! Let her go!"_

If he thought about it, it was a long way down. If he dropped the girl he was holding right now, she would fall a long way down. If he released her, she would scream and so would the others.

_" I-i-it hurts, *llen."_

Hurt. Ha! He knew more about hurt and pain and suffering they would ever have. They were insects. They were nothing compared to him. Filth. Dirt. Scum. Humans. That's what they were. That's what they will always be.

Then, what was he?

_" Allen?"_

He didn't even recognize his own -

.

.

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" - name, kid?"

He glared up at this peculiar man, scowling in irritation. " Why should I tell you?" he growled. " Not like I have a name to tell you anyways."

" But that's silly. Everyone has a name. Even me!" The clown let out a wild whoop and flopped backwards in a back flip, grinning crazily at him.

He had half a mind to punch this clown. Why did he have to keep following him around? " Don't you have somewhere else better to go to?" he asked, angrily spearing his potato with his fork.

The clown adopted a gloomy, over-the-top expression. " No, I'm afraid. I'm all alone in the world. All by myself."

Even if his voice was over-dramatic, he did feel a slight twinge of pity for him. " Me too," he found himself agreeing quietly.

" We can be friends!" the clown cheerily yelled out. " Then, neither of us won't be alone anymore!"

Without warning, the clown suddenly grabbed his arms and started violently swinging him around, causing many others to complain and yell, including himself, who was getting really dizzy from the spinning. " Me and Allen! Allen and I! We aren't alone anymore! Not alone anymore!" he sang out.

Even though later he shouted and kicked the clown in the shins afterwards, there was an unexplainable joy erupting inside of him, that was separate from his own feelings. He didn't think about it and soon, forgot that it ever happened.

But somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, he wondered why he had the feeling in the first place. To be h -

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End file.
